


Kindred Spirits

by Meilan_Firaga



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Conversations, Friendship, Gen, Late Night Conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24583003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: The monster and the beast, both with more humanity than the scientist who twisted them in his laboratory. Three stages in the friendship of Red XIII and Vincent as they journey with Cloud and the others to defeat Sephiroth and save the Planet.
Relationships: Red XIII | Nanaki & Vincent Valentine
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: Fandom 5K 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ysavvryl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysavvryl/gifts).



> This story assumes two things about game/canon choices. The first is that Red XIII was Cloud's chosen recipient of the Black Materia before the Whirlwind Maze fiasco. The second is a bit of canon from Dirge of Cerberus, which covered the fact that Vincent and Yuffie are missing from the final cutscene of the original game by stating that they were helping to evacuate Midgar instead of going into the North Crater and battling Sephiroth.

The crumbling walls of the Shinra mansion creaked in the wind drifting down from the mountains. With every heavy gust the manor groaned and swayed, shifting on its antiquated foundations, but still the structure held steady. Occasionally, the direction of the breeze shifted, whistling through cracks and holes too small to see. It was late, so late that the moon had dipped below the mountain range. The sky was a curtain of black velvet but for the blinking of a smattering of stars whenever the clouds briefly thinned. While his companions slept in bedrolls scattered through the rooms of the upper floors, Red XIII crept through the darkened first floor hallways. The tips of his claws clicked faintly against the aging wood floors while he paced. His turn at the watch had been up for some time, but he couldn’t think of any reason to wake one of the others when he was so restless that sleep was never going to come. 

Red turned a circle in what appeared to have once been a closet that now had its door hanging from the hinges and made his way back down the hall. A puff of air fluttered down the hall beneath his nose and his ears pricked up. Something in the scent of the air had changed. It smelled like mountains and twilight, with a hint of something that reminded him of old dirt. He’d heard nothing— no creaking floor boards or rusty hinges— but when he turned to look through the grimey glass windows facing the back garden there was a shadow looming that hadn’t been there before. He crept to a massive pair of glass doors and peered out through a large broken pane. The shadow came from a figure that was standing perfectly still beside a crumbling fountain. Drawing his body down as tightly as he could, Red squeezed through the glass and made his way into the garden.

The garden was a long rectangle bordered on two sides by the L-shaped back side of the manor. Across from the short side of the L was a stone wall topped in wrought iron spikes that nearly reached as high as the second story windows. The final long side of the garden was made up of a sheer cliff in the face of the mountain that loomed up hundreds of feet above the town. Paths through what had once probably been beautiful beds of plants now alternated between being overgrown or little more than dust clinging to dead leaves. In the corner where the stone wall met the cliff face a chunk of rock had fallen from the mountain above and crushed some sort of statue. A central pathway wound through the ruins of plants and statues toward the fountain he’d spotted from inside. 

Though the clouds above completely obscured the sky, Red found himself able to recognize the figure as he made his way down the path. The ragged red cloak rippled like a living thing in the wind rolling off the mountains. They hadn’t spoken yet, but he was sure the man was someone who might be able to understand the things he’d suffered at the hands of Hojo and his lackeys. Aside from the fact that they’d found him in a coffin in a place where experiments had clearly been carried out, there was something in the way he held himself. There was an aura of sadness and suffering that could only come from being treated as nothing more than a scientific plaything for the whim of a madman. Here was someone who might understand the hatred of humanity he was struggling so hard to reconcile with the group of genuinely good people that were his travel companions.

“You are impressively quiet.”

Red twitched in surprise at the rumbling vocal acknowledgement. He was still several feet behind the man, though the distance would not be impossible for him to clear with a single leap if he needed to do so. Before him, Vincent Valentine turned his head just enough to one side that Red could see the glint of a single red eye that nearly glowed in the darkness of the garden.

“Even before I was…” Vincent trailed off, then made a sweeping gesture at himself with his human arm. “Well, let’s just say that it’s never been easy to sneak up on me.” 

“I wasn’t intentionally sneaking.” As if to prove his point, Red took a few steps, leaped onto an intact piece of the fountain, and settled back on his haunches. From this angle he could see more of the man’s face than he had before, and was surprised to find there were barely any lines of age in his features. Were it not for whatever had been done to him, he might not have been alive for as many years as Red himself. Though, humans did age differently. “Most of the time humans don’t hear my approach at all.”

Vincent’s gaze grew distant, and he turned to face the mountains once more. “I don’t suppose I am one of those.” His head tilted back as a cloud rolled past, revealing a handful of twinkling stars in the sky above. “Not anymore.” 

There it was, the source of the sorrow. From his perch on the fountain, Red watched the pain roll over Vincent’s features. In the faint light of the flame on the tip of his tail, the metal arm at Vincent’s side glinted. Red wondered what he might have been before whatever had been done to him, wondered whether he would have fought against SHINRA as they were doing now. He watched him for several long moments while he pondered all those things, and considered his previous thoughts about the experiences they might have in common. Finally, as the clouds once more obscured the stars and Vincent’s glowing red gaze returned to him, he found the words he wanted to say.

“Humanity has done me few favors,” he scoffed, the horror’s of Hojo’s lab bubbling up in his mind. There were exceptions, but he considered them to be shining examples of traits beyond how human they might be.

“Hmmmm.” Vincent was silent for another long stretch of time, his eerie gaze traveling over Red from the comb and beads at his head to the flame flickering on his tail and back again. His eyes lingered on the branding of letters and numbers at his shoulder. “Red XIII,” he muttered. “That seems more like one of Hojo’s designations than a name.”

“It is,” Red confirmed. “I met no others with a similar designation, but I can only assume by the number I was given that I was not the first.”

“No.” Vincent’s gaze grew sad. “There may not have been as many as he’s claimed, but I remember Hojo having another creature like yourself many years ago.”

That caught his attention. “You’ve seen others like me?”

“Once, a long time ago.” Vincent rolled his shoulders before he crouched down. The way he moved was strange. It was swift and fluid, but there was a distortion to it as though he were a recording that played back with frames missing. “I’m afraid I don’t know many details. It wasn’t long after I saw the specimen that I became an experiment myself.”

Red nodded. “I understand. Hojo keeps many secrets.”

Vincent settled down from his crouch to sit on the stones at the base of the fountain. “Do you not sleep?”

“Do you?” 

“Not anymore. Not really.”

“Hmmm.” Red settled down on the lip of the fountain. “Sleep has not been my friend as of late.” He hesitated a moment, but Vincent didn’t press. Instead, he just regarded him with that steady gaze. The clouds scattered and returned twice more, revealing pockets of stars while Red considered whether or not he would say more. The words came slowly at first. He stumbled through a brief explanation of his childhood in Cosmo Canyon and the pain he’d felt at his father’s abandonment. By the time he reached his kidnapping at the hands of The Turks for Hojo’s experimentation the tale flowed as swift and steady as a river. He told Vincent of his struggles with his sentience and the instincts of his more beastial half, his rescue at the hands of their current companions, the decision to join their quest, his discovery in the Cave of Gi, and the conflict that had been brewing within him since learning that Seto was a hero. Vincent listened to it all with the rapt attention of a man who had not known conversation in far too long.

And then the tables turned. When Red found he could speak no more Vincent began to share his own story instead. He told him of humble beginnings and then an invitation to join the ranks of The Turks. He spoke of missions and hierarchy and the pride he’d felt upon achieving a high status in the ranks of his peers. He’d been one of the best, he admitted, just a hint of pride in his tone. Then, he spoke of Lucrezia. The sorrow in him deepened with longing as he told of his love for her, then deadened to a dull monotone when he gave a clinical description of Hojo’s work. By the time he reached his awakening in the coffin beneath the manor the sky had begun to lighten above them. 

With their tales spun they both rose from the cold stones, only just realizing that they’d grown stiff in the chill of the night. Red stretched his front paws out across the stones, shivering a bit as his muscles loosened. He and Vincent walked back to the manor in silence, content to have shared their stories with one another. When they reached the glass doors, Red stood back to let Vincent pull them open, but the man paused with his metal hand on the handle.

“I look forward to having you as a companion on this journey, Red XIII,” he said with a grave nod.

Red considered him for a beat. “You may call me Nanaki.”


	2. Chapter 2

Vincent went on the hunt the moment the airship was steady in the sky. Most of his compatriots were on the bridge, but the one he knew would need a friendly ear was demonstrably absent. The ship itself was not monstrously complicated to navigate. There were quarters along some of the corridors, but the majority of the space was separated into cargo bays lined by catwalks and the more closed off centers of engineering required to keep it in motion. There were a few more other corridors and rooms that he didn’t investigate quite so well once he was sure that Nanaki wasn’t in them. He supposed if they were going to keep it that he might have to have a closer look at the places he’d brushed aside, but for the moment his focus remained entirely on locating a being of red fur and a similar history to his own.

He found Nanaki huddled in a corner of the cargo bay, his face to the wall and his tail curled around his body in a way that he only did when he was in a particularly glum mood. Vincent had not been close enough to understand what was going on when Cloud demanded the Black Materia, but from the way his friend was behaving he was pretty sure he was blaming himself. Now Cloud was gone, and there was no telling what Sephiroth would be able to do, but he couldn’t let the young beast beat himself up over it. There was too much at stake, too much to be done.

“It is not your fault,” he assured him as he rounded a sizable crate, sure to make his footsteps make noise as he approached. Nanaki didn’t raise his head from between his paws, his eye focused instead on the tiniest scratch in the metal bulkhead so near to his face. “You know as well as I do that mental manipulation can be just as traumatizing as physical torture.” He received no immediate response, though if he were perfectly honest he wasn’t expecting one with anything resembling expediency. With barely a sound Vincent perched himself on top of the crate he’d circled, folding his legs beneath him.

The day turned to night while he sat on the crate and waited. It hadn’t taken long in their journey together for Vincent to realize that if he was still and available to listen for long enough the young creature would eventually open up with whatever thoughts were plaguing him. In the last few months they had spent many nights in silence and many more in quiet conversation while the others slept off whatever terrifying battles they’d just endured. He’d learned more about the history and culture of Cosmo Canyon in those few conversations than The Turks had in all the years he’d served with them. It was strange and different to allow himself that friendship when he knew he was truly a monster, but the fact that he was a monster was part of why it worked so well in the first place. He could be honest with Nanaki in a way he couldn’t with the rest of their party.

“I was supposed to be a great warrior.” There was gravel in Nanaki’s voice like he’d been crying for all the long hours they’d sat in silence. “I said I would honor my father’s legacy with strength and resilience.” He still hadn’t moved, but his torso gave a shuddering heave as he huffed out a deep breath. The beads in his hair shook with him and gave a musical clatter, and he grimaced as though that alone pained him. “Instead I made the mistake that doomed the world.”

Vincent waited for several moments to see if he had more to say. He used the time to study the comb situated in his companion’s mane. After a moment he recognized it from stories they’d exchanged as the one that had belonged to Nanaki’s father. When it was clear that his own response was expected he chose his words carefully. “Until the world is burning, its doom is still uncertain.”

“It is easy to claim to see no doom when you are not its architect.”

It started small, a sort of bubbling gurgle deep in his chest. Vincent did everything he could to reign it in, but nothing he did seemed capable of the task. The gurgle became a chuckle and then evolved into a full, deep-throated laugh. The unfamiliar sound finally got Nanaki to raise his head, if only so he could turn and stare in disbelief. Hopping down from his perch atop the crate, the former Turk folded himself down onto the floor with his back against the wall. Still chuckling a bit, he leveled a wry stare at his companion.

“Of the two of us,” he began, amusement tempering his tone, “I believe that I am the more well-versed in matters of Chaos and doom.”

Nanaki’s jaw dropped open in an expression of surprise and a little bit of horror. He clearly had not made the connection between his doomsaying and Vincent’s own demons until that very instant. “I did not mean to insinuate that you might not understand…”

“You know better by now than to worry about offending me.” Reaching over with his gloved human hand, Vincent patted the top of one furry paw absently. “I only mean to say that as I am more familiar with being the monster I feel like I might have the authority to tell you when you are nothing of the sort.” He let his gaze wander, drifting across the cargo bay until focus slid from his eyes and he followed the mental images of havoc he’d wrought in his more beastly forms. “We make mistakes, and The Planet spins on.”

“What do we do if our mistakes might stop its spinning?” There, in that question, he could finally hear the fragility of Nanaki’s age. It was easy to forget when thinking of numbers, but he was still a youth by his species standards. The closest to his mental age and emotional maturity out of all of them was Yuffie, who in spite of her posturing was still barely old enough to make the choice to fight. 

“I do not have the answer,” Vincent admitted quietly. “I don’t believe that anyone truly does. The last time I thought to make such a decision I followed this group away from my coffin, determined not to hide away from my mistakes.”

Seeming to curl tighter in upon himself, Nanaki shuddered again. “It would be easier to take myself out into the wilderness and become the beast the humans see in me.” He turned his head away again, beads clinking against the metal sheets on the floor instead of his comb as he laid back down. “Perhaps that is where I truly belong.”

Sorrow and guilt were old friends to Vincent, but he didn’t like seeing them on one so young. Nanaki would still be living when the tales of their current exploits were little more than pages in a history book. He would need to be wise when the mistakes of humanity that led to the current world problems were distant enough to be forgotten. Still, Vincent was ill-equipped to telling someone how to live with their feelings of weakness and guilt. He still didn’t understand how to live with either of them himself. 

“I know that I cannot change the past,” Nanaki admitted quietly before Vincent could decide what things were right to say. “I know that I must choose to give up and go into the wilderness or to move forward.” He grew quiet for a long moment. “I just don’t know… how to make that choice.”

Vincent considered that. He thought of the first night they’d spoken, just after he’d vacated the coffin Hojo had left him in. How strong and adult this creature had seemed then, before he told the tales of his father and Vincent realized the extent of his youth. As he remembered that conversation, it occurred to him that the creature who’d come to him in that garden would not have hesitated to run into the wilderness the moment he realized his mistake with the Black Materia. The realization that he knew exactly what to say hit Vincent like a brick to the head. “You’ve already chosen.”

Nanaki raised his head once more, blinking at him with wide eyes. This time there was the faintest glimmer of hope in his gaze. “What do you mean?”

“You chose the moment you climbed aboard this ship,” he told him. “If you’d chosen the wilderness, it would have made more sense to abandon us before we took to the air. By coming here, by talking to me, you’ve chosen the way forward.” 

The young warrior looked like he’d been struck on the head. Vincent could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes. With eerie grace he rose from the floor, extending a hand give Nanaki a brief pat between his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Yuffie leaning over a railing on a catwalk across the cargo bay like a ragdoll, one hand holding her hair back from her face. From the looks of it, their mode of transportation wasn’t agreeing with her.

“What will we do now?” Nanaki asked, startling him from his observation of the young woman. He found his friend staring up at him with all the confusion of a child. “Cloud is gone. What is our next step?”

“We’ll sort it out. If we have to hunt Sephiroth to the end of the world to see it through, we’ll do it.” Vincent gave him a wry smile. “Given how Tifa feels about our fearless leader, I imagine we’re about to devote all of our time to finding him. Come.” He swept his cape out to one side, gesturing back the way he had come with a deliberate plan to avoid the space beneath the young materia thief above them. “Let’s go up to the bridge and see what they’ve decided in our absence.”


	3. Chapter 3

The city of Midgar was in ruins. 

The sectors were nearly indistinguishable from one another, every plate collapsed in the wake of Meteor’s destruction. Barely half of the towering monstrosity that had once been SHINRA’s headquarters remained, its skeleton shifting dangerously from side to side as it was buffeted by the wind. The slums were ravaged. Buildings had been ripped out entirely out of the ground and deposited in completely different sectors by the columns of wind and fire that had struck down from above. Pieces of neon signage from the Wall Market were scattered as far as Sector 2 while debris that had been left from the destruction of Sector 7 could be found in every part of the city. Nothing was left unscathed.

Well, almost nothing.

It took Cid three passes over the smoldering city to find a place where he could park The Highwind, and another ten minutes after to safely set down. A flood of survivors poured out from every sector, scrambling over the rubble to get to open ground as buildings and plates continued to collapse. Their ragged little band of heroes, still exhausted from their battle with Sephiroth, set immediately to helping relief efforts as they sprang up. They dragged the injured from beneath fallen steel and concrete, cast from healing materia until they’d exhausted their entire supply of ether, and gave direction as best they could to a people who weren’t sure if they even wanted to consider rebuilding. Makeshift shelters were constructed with large pieces of debris that could be salvaged from the edges of the city. Triage centers went up first, followed by temporary living shelters. At some point, SHINRA trucks with their labels hastily painted over arrived from tunnels running beneath the city bearing food, blankets, and medical supplies that were desperately needed. 

Vincent and Yuffie arrived with the trucks, the former favoring their group with a brusque nod while the latter threw herself on each of them in turn and babbled for two straight hours about what she and Vincent had been doing when disaster struck. In spite of the fact that they looked just as haggard as the rest of them felt, they didn’t hesitate to throw themselves into the same cause, tossing their collection of healing supplies into the stockpile as they set to. The whole group of them moved in shifts, alternating to be sure that one or two of them were always available to citizens who needed the relief efforts but weren’t quite ready to trust SHINRA just yet. They worked tirelessly, slept fitfully, and repeated the whole process until things finally began to settle. The sun rose and fell and rose and fell, its light sometimes obscured by heavy-laden clouds and at other times so bright it felt blinding.

After nearly two weeks, things had calmed enough that they could take a break. Though the people still didn’t trust SHINRA, they did trust Reeve when he arrived in person to introduce himself to the people he’d helped to save the world. With him leading the way, the people let the city’s remaining responders take over. At Cloud’s request, the rest of them made their way into the ruins from the outskirts of Sector 5 to see if anything had been spared of the world he’d known. Junk yards were indistinguishable from residential blocks through most of the sector. Here and there were pockets of sturdily made buildings where survivors had been sheltered, most of them factories made for heavy-duty manufacturing. 

There, in the midst of it all, Aeris’ church stood perfectly preserved. 

None of them had the heart to put a time limit on their stay after Cloud fell to his knees on the church steps. He’d fought so hard for so long. He deserved time to process and to grieve for the Ancient the rest of them had barely known. They set up their tents in the churchyard, leaving their leader to his grief. For the first night in a very long time they all lay down on their bedrolls to peaceful, uninterrupted sleep.

Except, of course, for the two who did not revere sleep so much as the others. Nanaki patrolled the perimeter of their camp once everyone had fallen asleep and found himself surprised when he could not locate Vincent within an easy walk of the camp. He could not, in fact, find him anywhere in the general vicinity. His scent was on the breeze, though, and the young warrior had a suspicion he might have sought higher ground. Nervous of his welcome but remembering that Cloud had once told him he and Aeris had escaped this very church through a hole in the roof, he shouldered his way through the church’s front doors. Before him, Cloud was asleep in his bedroll beside a beautiful circle of flowers. The scent of the flowers was unlike anything he’d ever smelled— comforting and alive. He could have stayed in the sanctuary sniffing those flowers until dawn, but he could see another door on the far side of them and he had something he needed to discuss. 

Behind the door was a dilapidated room with rickety staircases and fallen columns, but he could see sturdy beams running below the full length of the roof high above. It took several minutes of careful maneuvering for him to find his way up the fallen supports and across the beams to a hole in the shingled roof. There, of course, was where he found Vincent. The man was crouched at the crown of the gabled roof, his cape billowing behind him like a sinister beacon in the moonlight. No matter how long they’d spent in one another’s company, it never ceased to entertain Nanaki that Vincent could so effortlessly appear to be some kind of malevolent demon just by existing.

“You cut a figure that would terrify human children,” Nanaki teased, picking his way across the rickety rooftop until he could sit on his haunches beside the dark haired man.

“It is lucky, then,” Vincent replied, “that there are no children to be found near here at the moment.”

“Lucky indeed.” He turned one paw over to inspect his claws, a gesture he’d seen the human females give to display apathy or nonchalance. “Though, perhaps nightmares of you could replace the nightmares of what they saw during Meteorfall.”

Vincent snorted, shifting from his crouch to sit with his elbow propped on one knee and his other leg dangling over the edge of the roof. “I didn’t realize I was that scarier than an apocalypse without changing my form.”

“Utterly terrifying. You’ve not been giving yourself enough credit. Why do you think I’m awake at night? If I’m going to have night terrors about you I might as well sit in your company.”

There was fondness in Vincent’s answering chuckle. “I’ll try to tone it down, then. I know how you need your beauty sleep.” 

“That would be appreciated,” Nanaki deadpanned. “My mane was getting so unmanageable.”

They slipped into their usual companionable silence, gazing out across the ruined city. The last time either of them had been in Midgar it had been constantly aglow with millions of lights powered by mako, a true beacon of modern technology shining in the dark of the rest of the continent. Now it was as dark as any campsite they’d made in the wild parts of the world, save for the still-glowing embers of their group’s campfire in the churchyard, a few pinpoints of light in the relief settlement at the city’s edge, and the occasional flash from monsters roaming the ruined city. The brightest point in sight was the conglomeration of the few lights shining from Kalm on the horizon.

Nanaki stared out at it all as he tried to prepare what he wanted to say. They’d been fighting for so long. It was strange to think that there was currently no looming quest set out before them. He had changed so much since this journey began in this wretched city he’d spent the last two weeks helping to salvage. He could do so much more than the scared, wounded cub he’d been when he set out, and he had more options than he knew what to do with. Still, he’d made a decision for himself while he worked over the last few days, and if it was possible he’d rather not follow through on that decision alone.

“I never thought I would see this world in something resembling peace again,” Vincent rumbled suddenly. The faintest hint of a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s a good sight to see, even if it did come at the cost of so much destruction. I’m glad to be helpful as the people put the pieces back together.”

“Yes,” Nanaki agreed. “I do not have fond memories of Midgar, but I think I will carry fond memories of the people who have come together here these last few days.” He tamped down his nerves and forged ahead with the conversation he’d climbed onto the roof to start. “When we have finished helping the people to settle, I will return to Cosmo Canyon for a while.”

Beside him Vincent nodded, though he thought there might have been the briefest microexpression of disappointment. “That does seem like a good choice for you, now that you’ve made sure you didn’t doom the world.”

“Yes, that was kind of me,” Nanaki chuckled. He titled his head to one side, satisfied for the first time when the beads in his mane clinked against his father’s comb. He felt worthy of it at last. “Would you like to join me there? I would like to show you my father, and my home.” He thought it might take Vincent a long time to consider. He wasn’t expecting to get an answer even as soon as the next day. He was delighted to find he was wrong.

“I would like that.” For the first time, Nanaki saw a small gathering of wrinkles at the corner of Vincent’s eyes when his friend favored him with a warm, genuine smile.


End file.
